


Aphenphosmphobia

by MiddleKeyFangirl



Category: Cloak & Dagger (TV 2018), Marvel
Genre: Caring, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intimacy, Making Out, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short One Shot, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-08-11 17:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20157529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddleKeyFangirl/pseuds/MiddleKeyFangirl
Summary: Aphenphosmphobia; noun; fear of being touched, intimately or otherwise.





	Aphenphosmphobia

Tyrone sat on the dark blanketing of his bed, Tandy in his lap and holding his lips with hers. His calloused hands weaved through her hair, her skin burning wherever his hands grazed her. She was moaning softly, one hand on his cheek and the other against his chest. The lights were dim, casting shadows on the walls.

He pulled back gently, running his hands down her shoulders. "You okay?" She nodded, pulling herself back into him.

She loved the smell of his peppermint breath; he loved the smell of her freshly-cleaned hair, and the feeling of her hand separating her chest from his.

Tandy was calm for once. She felt safe, warm with Tyrone. She allowed him to place his hands on her sides, and he could feel her ribcage through the thick fleece of her oversized sweater. He traversed further, his hands sliding down her body to her hips.

Something in her head started flashing red once her hands hit the waistband of her jeans. She pushed it aside. She wanted this, she really did. Tyrone seemed to sense her nerves, bringing his hands back to her ribs and looking up at her worriedly as he peeled his lips off of hers.

"You're sure?" He asked again, between breaths. She nodded, running her thumb across his cheek.

"I'm okay," she nodded, looking into his eyes. She zoned back in to catch his lips in a soft smile.

She had said she was ready, that she was okay with it, but she hadn't even tried to get his shirt off. Both of them were still fully clothed, neither one wanting to be the first to take off the other's clothes. But she supposed someone would have to eventually. Taking a deep breath, Tandy tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. 

"Holy shit-" she snorted. At this point, it was more of an attempt to use humor as a coping mechanism. "I knew you were ripped, but this is just excessive." She traced her index finger around his stomach, smirking at him.

"Ha ha," he fake laughed. "I bet you've got some too. You're pretty rough."

"Doesn't mean I've got nice abs."

He smiled at her, gently pulling the hem of her sweater. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously, allowing him to take it off nonetheless. She looked at his chest shyly, running her hands over the straps of her sports bra. Tyrone read her face, read that she was nervous. He reached up and brushed some of her honey-blonde hair out of her face.

"Hey," he looked at her lovingly. "You can say no." 

"I told you, I'm fine." Tyrone couldn't tell if she was lying, because dammit, she was one hell of a liar. He stared into her eyes until she rolled them, swinging her leg around to sit next to him on the bed. The room was quiet, save for the sounds of the two of them trying to catch their breath; soft inhaling, prolonged exhaling, and a small yawn now and again.

She put her head on his shoulder, eyes tired. Tyrone reached out and took her hand. Instantly, he found himself staring into a void, the darkness only cut with what seemed to be a scene similar to the one he had just been in. But the energy... the feeling of it was wrong. It felt tense and anxiety-provoking. He stepped closer.

It was him and Tandy. Tandy was on her back, trying to push Tyrone away as he tried to kiss her neck. Her eyes were watering. She had her knees bent, prepared to fight if he tried to undress her. She was squirming under him, trying to get away, but he wouldn't let her.

He suddenly found himself back with Tandy on his bed. He lifted his hand from hers and looked at her.

"Don't do that," she muttered.

"Do what?" 

"Fuck around in my head." She huffed, head still resting on his shoulder. "You don't want to see that."

"You don't trust me?" He asked it so quietly. Her head snapped up.

"What?"

"I saw it. Your fear. You're scared of me."

"Ty," she was on the verge of tears. "I'm not scared of you. And I want to trust you so bad." She cupped his cheek, looking terrified.

"Then why don't you?" The question, whose words could have been much more aggressive, was like a hand coming to smooth her hair. Her lip quivered and her eyes watered as she reached for his hand. She pulled it to her shoulder, holding it against her skin.

He could see it now. 

Pure terror was all he felt for her. Three teenage boys ganging up on her and corralling her into an alley. Tandy scratching and hyperventilating, trying to get away. The boy in charge's hand pulling at the straps of her nice, white dress.

"Leave her alone!" Tyrone shouted, rattling the chain fence. The boys couldn't hear him. But Tandy, with her mouth covered with a hand, looked at him. He had never seen anyone that terrified before. He could hear her crying against the guy's hand, trying to scream for help. He tried to break through the fence to get her. "Tandy!"

The other boys were gone now. It was just Tandy and one much larger man. She was sitting on the edge of a rickety motel bed, tears brimming her eyes. Tyrone recognized the outfit she was wearing. It was the one she had the night he had saved her from the motel. 

The man placed a few bills on a small wooden table, slowly approaching Tandy. She knew what was about to happen. The look in her eyes read pure despair; she wanted to fight, but wasn't sure she could, wasn't sure if it was even worth it. As the man came closer, something in her sparked, and she suddenly produced one of her daggers. Tyrone sighed; she had gotten out of that one, physically, at least.

He pulled his hand away from her shoulder, looking into her shining eyes.

"I want you to be able to trust me. I want you to feel safe when you're with me," he muttered. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she stood up and took a small step backwards.

"I don't think that's possible." It was hardly audible; a feeble whisper she prayed he couldn't hear. He sat forward, elbows resting on his knees and his hands limp.

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "Tandy, I'm your best friend. Nothing you could say would ever change the way I see you."

She chuckled wryly, wiping her eyes. "So damn cheesy."

"Whatever you say, I'll listen. You've got your pain, Tandy. And I always seem to share mine with you. Let me be Tandy for a minute," he slid back against his headboard, still looking nervously at her. She stood facing him, shaking in only her sports bra and jeans.

Her mouth opened and closed several times, as if she wasn't quite sure what to say. She nibbled on her already short and bitten fingernails, avoiding eye contact with him. Every few seconds, she'd look him in the eye, looking as if she were about to speak, only to stop herself and take a shaking breath.

"I love being with you, Ty," she finally sniffed, "I really do. But every time we get past the making-out line and start leaning into the touchy zone, something blares in my brain. And I know it's dumb-"

"Don't call it dumb, Tandy," Tyrone interrupted, voice still soft and gentle. "It's how you feel, it's valid." She nodded, sitting on the edge of his bed, back to him. He could see her spine, watched as her bones shook with each nervous breath she took.

"The only guy I've ever been with betrayed me," she sighed, wrapping her fists in her short blonde hair. "Any other guy I've been physically close with... I either was being held down against my will or looked at like some kind of object. But I guess I brought that on myself, stealing from them and all."

"It's not your fault Tandy," Tyrone wanted to hold her, but didn't want to frighten her. "It's not. I promise you." He could see her nod, running her hands down to the base of her neck.

The room was silent again, their breathing no longer loud enough to be heard. Tyrone continued to watch Tandy, who looked small and scared as she sat on the edge of his bed.

"Do you want to have sex with me?" She asked suddenly, trembling. It was quiet, and she still wouldn't face him, but he could picture her face.

"I don't care about sex, Tandy. I care about you." Both of them held their breath for a moment. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll stop whatever you tell me to stop."

She turned towards him, crawling over to sit in front of him.

"I want..." she paused, closing her eyes. She reached forward and took his hands, trying to gaze into his hopes.

He was telling the truth. He didn't want her for sex, or because she was pretty. He loved her for her.

She gazed longingly at the hope before her. Tyrone was wearing his black hoodie and flannel pants, snuggled into bed. His comforter was held in his arms, his cheek resting against the top of it. 

Tandy walked around the bed, looking into the comforter. She found herself, fresh out of the shower in a big white hoodie and pajama pants, wrapped up in the comforter. A smile slowly came to her face as she watched Tyrone pull the other Tandy closer, kissing the top of her forehead lovingly. The other Tandy stirred, pulling herself closer to him and into a tiny ball. He smiled, closing his eyes contentedly and resting his head atop hers.

She pulled out of the hope, still holding his hand and her eyes closed. Reaching out for his other hand, she brought both of them to the sides of her neck. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared silently at the empty space between them.

"I want to feel you. And I want you to feel me. But I'm just not..." she sighed exasperated. "Ready? Comfortable? I don't know... brave enough."

"You're plenty brave," he said quietly, moving his thumbs in tiny circles. He moved his hands slightly, one resting under her jaw so he could touch her cheek, and the other searching for her pulse. "Is this okay?" She nodded, inching closer.

She finally looked up to meet his eyes, letting him look into hers, searching for something, anything. Tyrone could feel her heart rate slow down against his fingertips, offering a soft smile. She returned the smile and closed her eyes, pushing her head into the hand stroking her cheek.

"Tell me what's okay," Tyrone said. "You're in charge." Tandy nodded slightly, eyes opening again. 

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna put my sweater back on."

"Okay."

She climbed off the bed and picked up the light yellow garment, pulling it back on. She pulled the sleeves past her hands and tucked the fabric into her fists.

"Anything above here," she muttered, facing Tyrone, motioning to the top of her hip. "But not my chest. This is so embarrassing." Her voice seemed to grow smaller with each word.

"I'm listening. If you just want to leave it and wait until later, when you're ready, that works too." Tandy sighed in relief and crawled over to him on the bed. She bunched up his comforter and wrapped it around herself, snuggling into him.

He smiled down at her and wiggled down closer to her, pressing his forehead to hers. They looked at each other, analyzing the tiny details they couldn't quite recall, and admiring the ones they could. Eventually their hands snaked their way to each other, and their fingers intertwined. Tandy smirked.

"Waffles?"

"Waffles."

**Author's Note:**

> zleepy hours now (why am i back in school lmao)


End file.
